Half-Blood Princess
by ThePotionMaster'sMistress
Summary: Trans Severus.


Severus had _always_ preferred the company of women over men. It was a preference that had taken root early; its origins having taken place during those crucial formative years of early childhood when his only source of love and comfort had come from his dear mother. Whereas his father had offered him nothing but cruel blows and scathing insults, his mother had been quick to deliver him an endless supply of kisses and praise.

His preference for the fairer sex had only continued from there on out. Whenever all the neighborhood boys would gather up for a game of rugby, or to play pirates, Severus would find himself drawn to the gaggle of gossiping girls instead. And whereas all the other boys seemed to enjoy tackling each other into the mud, Severus preferred to play dolls with the girls and was more than content to sit in the shade with them as he helped them with their sewing and knitting.

But by far his favorite childhood activity, besides reading, had been learned at the tender age of seven when his female friends had first taught him how to braid hair. That had been the very first time in his life that Severus realized he'd actually have preferred to been born a girl. The sharp pangs of envy he had felt as he'd combed out Flossy McRoony's beautiful, long hair had been powerful and thought-consuming. Her hair was like spun gold, shinning and glimmering in the sunlight and so very, _very_ soft. He had stayed up that whole entire night, lamenting the fact that we would never have anything but a greasy mop of snarls for hair.

His envy only grew worse from there. As he would sit in the hard church pews, forced into attending Sunday services by his hypocrite of a father, Severus would swelter away in his ill-fitting hand-down-suit and miserably curse the fact that he wasn't allowed to wear a dress like all his other friends got to. And it wasn't just because he knew the feminine clothing would be much better at keeping his cool and comfortable. No, Severus would have much preferred dresses simply because he didn't feel 'right' wearing boys' clothes.

Severus continued to grow older, but the discomfort he felt with his body only grew worse with time. He had discovered Lily playing in the park when he'd been nine; that confusing age of childhood when girls stopped believing boys were infected with cooties and began to crush on them instead of avoid them. And Severus hadn't been immune to that particular effect of pre-puberty, either.

Sitting with the girls during a tea party, Severus would be listening to Gretel Wolff babbling about how dreamy Tommy Baker's big, blue eyes were and his frustration would grow as he had to force himself to keep from agreeing with her. He all but had to literally bite his tongue to keep from adding to conversation by mentioning just how adorable the freckles of Jack Spinster's nose were.

Young though he was, Severus had always been wise for his age. He knew enough to understand that boys didn't talk about other boys that way- not if they didn't want to get beaten up and tossed into the filthy river. So he'd kept quiet, trying hard not to let his envy show as Lisa Abbot giggled and informed them all that Adam White had kissed her, and on the lips, too!

Severus still wasn't entirely certain why that should have bothered him. He had loved _Lily_ after all, _adored_ her with every ounce his entire being. He had constantly daydreamed about her beautiful emerald eyes, and her wonderful, fiery hair. From the very moment he had spotted her in that park, he'd known that Lily was the only girl in the world for him. She was _perfect_ , just like his mother was. And nobody would ever convince him otherwise.

So why had Severus so strongly wished that he could have held hands with Jack Spinster? And why had he been so envious of the fact that _Lisa_ could get kissed by a boy but _he_ couldn't? And above all else, just _how_ had Severus managed to develop dozens of crushes on the fellow neighborhood boys before even starting Hogwarts? And why was it that when the other boys had talked about how pretty a certain girl was, and expressed their desire to kiss them, Severus felt nothing but disgust?

Sure enough, before he knew it, he was thirteen and off to Hogwarts with Lily for yet another year of schooling. And with third-year came many changes, and not just those pertaining to their scheduling and Hogsmeade privileges. It had been the year all his girl mates started to experiment with makeup, starting off slowly with lip gloss and evolving all the way to mascara and lipstick by the end of the year. And suddenly all the envy Severus had felt when he'd brushed out Flossy McRoony's hair seemed trivial to the amounts of bitterness he'd felt as he'd watched the girls practice applying their makeup.

And the horrible process of puberty had begun and Severus's discomfort rose to a nearly intolerable level. As he noticed the mounds appearing on the girls' chests, and heard their voices begin to lose their childish edges, he began to resent his body. Severus _despised_ the chest that remained flat, cursed the hair that began to appear on his chin, and _loathed_ the baritone silkiness his voice had become.

No matter how many times Lily, Narcissa, and a few other girls would tell him how attractive they found his new voice, Severus was disgusted by it. He wanted a sultry one like Narcissa's, or a light and gentle one like Lily had. And as hard as the girls tried to convince him that breasts were more of a nuisance than anything else, Severus remained unconvinced and downright covetous of Narcissa's ample bosom.

Severus had _never_ before felt so _damn_ uncomfortable in his body than he had at that moment. While it had _always_ felt strange to him, foreign even, at that very moment in time it became the enemy. His body had become nothing more than a disgusting vessel that trapped him and offered him no means of escape. He was like a hermit crab, living in a shell unsuitable for habitation. But unlike said crustacean, Severus couldn't just go and find himself another more comfortable shell. He was trapped inside one that made him hate himself.

And even though Lily was his closest and dearest friend, his _idol_ really, he'd never been able to confide in her about this particular problem. Severus had been too scared to. Terrified that such a well-adjusted, _normal_ girl would never be able to understand the perversion plaguing his body and decide for herself not to associate with such a troubled freak. And making such a confession would mean that Severus had to come to terms with what he felt. Which meant admitting to _himself_ that he wasn't happy as a boy. And Severus simply hadn't been anywhere _near_ ready to do that while Lily was still his best mate.

Heavily conservative as she was, and still harboring her pureblood beliefs until her dying day, Severus took great care to hide his problem from his mother. He loved her deeply and couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her. His mother had always wanted a 'brilliant little heir' to bring on glory to the Prince name. How could he break his mother's heart by telling her he wanted to be an heiress instead?

But thinking back, Severus knew now that she must have suspected _something_ wasn't quite right with her son. Careful though he was to keep his beloved mother in the dark about his tribulation, she'd walked in on him participating in far too many feminine behaviors for her remain in denial.

The first incident Severus could remember, he'd been hardly more than toddler. His mother had been helping him prepare for bed when he'd made the declaration that he'd rather be wearing a nightgown- like _she_ was. The kind women had simply laughed at him before tucking him into bed, and kissed him softly on the temple before reminding him that he was a _boy_.

The second incident he could remember, was during a doctor's visit when he was four. Undergoing the checkup required to get him into primary school, Severus had looked the doctor straight in the eye and demanded to know when his pecker was going to fell off and his munt grow in to replace it. His mother had turned bright red at that, and given him a sharp smack on the bottom for speaking so crassly. It had been a very long walk home that day as she'd explained to him just how anatomy worked.

Shortly after that she had caught him clomping about in her only pair of dress shoes. With a slight frown on her face, she had lifted him out of the heels and kicked them back into the closet. Hugging him tightly, she had warned Severus to never let his father catch him doing something like or else the brute would take the belt to his backside.

Her already limited patience at his antics, however, had run its course by the time he'd reached seven. Having walked into Severus's room unannounced, she'd caught him wearing the dress Gretel had given him for his birthday a few days prior. In the blinking of an eye, before Severus could even process what had happened, she had reached out and slapped him hard enough make him see stars.

He had burst into tears almost immediately, having been unprepared for such a harsh reaction from his _mother_. That had been the very first time in his life that she'd ever laid hands on him in such an uncontrolled manner. Other than a few, firm swats to his backside when he was being particularly ornery, or a mouthful of soap after he had delivered a particularly cheeky statement or spoken a filthy word, his mother had never so much as raised her voice at Severus- he'd never given her a reason to. As his mother so often bragged, ' _Severus was a_ good _boy_.' A statement the other parents in town were more than willing to agree with.

But as badly as it had hurt Severus that he'd made his mother upset enough to strike him, and look on him with anything other than her usual doting favor, Severus could tell that she'd been hurt far worse than he'd been. For as soon as she had realized what she'd done, she had pulled Severus into her arms and squeezed him with a drip grip as she began to cry heavily herself. And then she had kissed him over and over and over again, rubbing his reddened cheek with a gentle hand as she repeatedly promised to never hit _ever_ again.

" _You can't keep doing this.'_ She had sobbed, rocking him gently. _'Please-_ please, _just act like a boy._ "

Severus, of course, had swiftly promised to heed her pleas. How could he deny _her_ of all people? And, looking back now, Severus could clearly see the reason for her desperation. She had been worried, terrified really. And what mother wouldn't have been? Boys that behaved effeminately got beaten up, or worse, _killed_ should their 'oddness' happen to be discovered by the wrong group of people. She had simply been going out of her way to make certain that Severus would, and _could_ , survive in the harsh world that already hated him for being poor- a hatred that would surely only increase once he was sorted into Slytherin House.

 _"_ _I'll never hit you again_." She had promised. _"Never._ "

And like the saint she was, his mother had broken that promise only once. A blow that Severus knew full well he had deserved. Having just confessed to her that he had joined the Death Eaters, he had expected nothing less. Severus had just thrown his entire life away after all with that one stupid move. Despite being top of his class, the numerous scholarships and apprenticeships he'd been offered were revoked that very night. Order of the Merlin stripped away, along with the rest of his honors, he'd promptly been expelled from the most exclusive university in the wizarding world before he had even had a chance to attend orientation. But far worse a consequence than his brilliance going to waste, was the fact that he had broken his poor mother's heart. And though she had forgiven him, years later, Severus still could not offer that same mercy to himself.

And as for his father, _well_ , Severus couldn't care any less what that brutish oaf thought of him _or_ his problem. But because of the promise he had made to his cherished mother, and his particularly strong sense of self-preservation, Severus had taken great strides to keep his little problem far away from that dreadful beast.

To his credit, Severus had only slipped up and gotten caught _once_ by his Old Man. He'd been ten, and his father had caught him wearing bright red lipstick and rouge. It had been during that excruciatingly violent and painful beating that Severus had come to realization that his father would positively _kill_ him, without a second thought, if he ever caught Severus behaving in any other way but a masculine manner.

Fortunately for Severus, Narcissa had responded much differently than both of his parents had. Instead of exasperation or rage, the youngest Black daughter had responded with acceptance and understanding- disregarding all the tenets of pureblood propriety that had been drilled into her head since birth.

Her discovery of Severus's problem had come during the summer before Severus was set to begin his second year of Hogwarts, and she and Lucius their sixth. Having accepted Lucius's offer for a courtship halfway through their sixth-year, Severus had wound up spending large amounts of time with the youngest Black daughter by default. Because, embarrassing as it was to admit it, Severus had only willingly left his protective 'older brother's' side when the couple requested alone time or whenever Severus had wanted to spend some time with Lily. Other than that, he'd been glued to the couple's side since their coupling. He had been 'their practice child,' the older Slytherin's had liked to tease.

Severus had certainly spent many a happy hour with Narcissa and her girlfriends as a result, delighted to no end as they all seemed to enjoy lavishing attention on him. He'd been so starved for affection that Severus had eaten up every last hug and kiss, even going so far as to allow the more affectionate ladies to set him in their laps as if he were some sort of toddler.

So imagine just how overjoyed he'd been one summer morning to have received an invitation from Narcissa to spend the night at her manor- an _entire_ night, and not just the few measly hours he was used to spending with her.

She had needed his help with redesigning her massive room. Her parents had gone off on their annual anniversary retreat, and neither of her sisters had been in any position to help either. Bellatrix had been busy with Rudolphus, overseeing the decoration and landscaping of their newly purchased summer home, and Andromeda had been freshly disowned upon discovery of her liaison with the muggle named Ted. And with the house all to herself, Severus had felt more than safe enough to accept the invitation as he hadn't need feared Narcissa would get into trouble for having invited a half-blood into one of her ancestral homes.

They had just finished eating a delicious lunch of wagyu steak, prepared by Kreacher who'd been borrowed from Walburga's brother to ten to Narcissa's every want and need whilst they were gone, that the floo in the living room had flared to life- revealing Ramona Selwyn's head sticking out from the flames.

After she had made certain that Severus gave Ramona a proper hello, Narcissa had promptly dismissed Severus to her room- instructing him to make himself comfortable. He'd quickly obeyed, not wanting to be disciplined by the usual firm swat the rear from the stern young lady, and had obediently entertained himself with doodling on some parchment for a good while. It was only after an entire hour had passed that Severus remembered Narcissa could easily spend upwards to two hours chatting with her mates via a floo call- even more so it happened to be Ramona.

So, with boredom having settled in, Severus's ever-present curiosity had won and he'd decided to do a little snooping. What with the way Narcissa _loved_ to gossip, Severus had been fairly certain he would have plenty of time to root around without being caught.

He had begun his search in her bedroom, starting by rifling through the makeup and hair accessories atop her vanity and inside its drawers. Having always been enamored with cosmetics of any kind, he'd swiped a dab of coconut flavored lip gloss and a few squirts of flowery perfume before he had moved on into the adjoining bathroom.

Severus had experienced a grand, informative, time inside there. Because whereas his mother had been forced to hide what few feminine hygiene items she owned away from her husband, who would go livid at the slightest glimpse of them, Narcissa had kept most of hers out in the open- save a few more private ones that she'd tucked away in a drawer.

Severus hadn't even really know what womanly objects even _were_ until that day. That secret of womanhood had been kept from him, something that vexed him to no end. No matter how many times he'd begged Narcissa and the older girls to clue him in, they'd kept mum and scolded him for being 'crude enough to ask' a question so improper. But finally the chance had presented itself for him to learn, and Severus hadn't been about to waste said opportunity either.

At first, Severus had simply been puzzled when he'd found the box containing oddly shaped tubes in one of the drawers beneath the sink. They had looked very much like sticks of white dynamite to him, but Severus knew enough to have known that Narcissa wouldn't have had muggle explosives in her bathroom. His confusion had only grew onward from that point, when he looked into the box beside the tubes and found a series of large, boring-looking stickers inside. There had been a small calendar too, oddly enough, with little red markings on it every month during the same four to five days.

A second drawer hadn't turned up anything of much interest. It had contained nothing more than a bottle of rose-scented baby powder and jar of wax that had apparently been imported all the way from Brazil.

He'd gone to the massive, small house-sized closet next, having decided to save the best territory for last. Severus had spent nearly an hour inside, rummaging through every last item of clothing the girl possessed. And while he had been respectful enough not to rummage through her underwear, he _had_ started with her brassieres

He couldn't believe the variety! Narcissa had owned everything from plain flesh-colored ones all the way to lace-covered black. There had even been quite a few missing their straps, through Severus quickly began to suspect that it was intentional when he came to the fourth strapless one. But it hadn't been long before he had begun to grow jealous of the fact that he'd never have a real need for such underthings, and had grown rather annoyed at the labels boasting C34.

He'd made the decision to rummage through her dresses again after that, impressed with Narcissa's sense of style. Narcissa very much had the same taste in clothing as he did- Victorian, with just a hint of modern flair. Granted she _did_ use way more color than he ever felt comfortable wearing.

There were even a few blouses, as that was what pureblooded women wore under their robes to keep modest, that Severus happened to fall in love with. He'd been feeling up the embroidery on a plum-colored chemise when he'd happened to spot the shoe-rack pressed up against the side wall.

By far his favorite footwear on the rack had been a very particular set of boots. They were of a softer shade of black, lined with the softest fur of the same color, and they came up to just below his knees. The set had sported a slight wedged heel, too, and they'd ben embellished with large, sparkling bows on the outside of each. From the very moment he'd slipped them on, he'd fallen in love. They hadn't even been that big on him either, given that he and Narcissa both possessed small feet for their ages.

Narcissa had walked in on him right as he was about to reluctantly pull of his beloved boots. She had come up short, her blue eyes going comically wide at the sight. Severus had expected to be delivered a painful blow at any moment, but none had come. She had simply grabbed his left hand and pulled him from the closet.

Having spent most of the morning working together to rid her room of clothes that were either to small and/or out-of-fashion, they had wound up making quite a large pile of the rejected clothes atop her king-sized bed- all waiting for Kreacher to vanish them. The small mountain had nearly taken up the entire center of the bed, yet Narcissa had found room enough to sit, pulling Severus unto her lap as she did so.

"Take what you want."

Her voice had been soft and gentle, full of the unconditional love Severus could get nowhere else- not even at home. Not even from his mother who (blamelessly) feared and loathed his perversion and, by extension, a small part of his being. But there Narcissa sat, the very face of acceptance.

Severus hadn't protested like he normally would have nor did deny that her offering was what he'd really wanted all along. For once, he hadn't _needed_ to. Because when he'd looked directly into Narcissa's eyes, Severus had been greeted by a look of acceptance so pure he'd finally felt brave, and safe, enough to be himself.

Severus had easily picked out the items he wanted from the pile, having paid close attention to everything they'd been throwing on it with a feeling of envy. In less than fifteen minutes he'd made his own modest pile near the foot of the bed, a modest wardrobe consisting of; a pastel pink training bra (that really wasn't functional for anything more than display upon a flat chest), three pairs of woman's wizarding robes with lace-covered hems, _several_ pairs of shoes, heels, and boots and two short, black dresses.

He'd even been allowed to take some jewelry, as it had gone out of style and Narcissa hadn't felt it would come back into fashion for quite some time. Which had meant that Severus scored a great number of beautiful necklaces, bracelets, and best of all, rings- which he just couldn't get enough of. There had been a few sets of emerald earrings he'd wanted to. But, without pierced ears, Severus had decided it would have been a greedy waste to take them.

"You can keep them here." Narcissa had promised, knowing just how violent Severus's father would become if he discovered women's clothes in his bedroom. "You can wear them whenever you're visiting."

He'd eagerly accepted the offer while tears of gratitude threatened to spill from his eyes, bothering only to only take the brassiere home with him as it was easy enough to wear under his clothes without any real fear of being discovered.

"Take the boots, too." She had smiled, leaving no room for argument with her tone. "I'll just buy another pair."

The tears had spilled out then; ugly, heavy sobs that he'd been holding back since the very moment he'd realized something was wrong with him. And Narcissa had just held him in her lap, squeezing Severus tightly as he wailed like a wounded child.

Stroking his hair and whispering soothing words, Narcissa had promised that nothing had changed between them. But of course it had. _Everything_ had changed, their entire dynamic. How could it not have? She had discovered his secret, accepted it, _embraced_ it. Just as Lucius had become his brother all those years ago, Narcissa had (in that moment) become his sister.

Having been given the freedom to be himself, at least in front of her, Severus had wiped away his tears, after a long hour, and had gathered up his courage to ask Narcissa about the strange items in her bathroom.

At first she'd looked furious and beyond scandalized that Severus had snooped through her private drawers. But when she'd seen the look of terror in his eyes, Narcissa's demeanor had softened and she'd began to give him 'the talk.'

"What are those plastic tubes for?" Severus asked first, his innocent question turning Narcissa's cheeks dark enough to overshadow her rouged cheeks.

"They're called tampon, Severus." She's managed to choke out. "The 'stickers' are called sanitary pads."

"What are they for?" He'd pressed, having been relieved to finally be clued into that secret of womanhood.

"To catch blood." Narcissa had explained, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

"Blood!?" Severus had been alarmed.

"Calm yourself." Narcissa had insisted, smoothing down his hair. "Let me explain."

Severus had nodded, resting his head against her ample bosom as he reveled in the warmth and comfort it offered. If Narcissa didn't seem worried about her bleeding, he wouldn't work himself up over it.

"When do you think a girl becomes a young lady?" Narcissa had questioned, catching him off guard.

"When they turn thirteen." Severus had answered confidently, having been well-versed in pureblood/Slytherin culture by now.

"Correct. But do you know why?"

Severus had simply shrugged, understanding that Narcissa was leading up to a particular point. And the quieter he became, allowing her to talk with minimum interruption, the more comfortable Narcissa seemed to become.

"Because, _usually_ , by the time a witch reaches the age of thirteen she's had her first experience with menstruation." Narcissa's cheeks had grown even darker. "She's gotten her first 'period,' to put it simply."

"What's a period?" Severus had wondered aloud, frustration growing as he realized that Lily had been keeping some pretty big secrets from him.

"It's a sign for ladies." She'd tutored. "It means that as soon as a girl is married, she'll be able to have babies."

"But why do you _bleed_?" Severus pestered. "And from _where_?"

"Well, a lady has two ovaries and a uterus." Narcissa cleared her throat. "Every month, one of the ovaries will release an egg. That's called ovulation."

"What's a uterus?" Severus had frowned, unfamiliar with the term.

"It's where babies live until they're ready to be born." Narcissa informed. "Now, if a lady isn't pregnant when she's ovulating, the egg will pass through the uterus and out of the vagina."

"But why do you _bleed_?"

"Because the uterus sheds it's lining at the same time." Narcissa clarified. "It's a very messy affair. That's what the tampons and pads are for- they keep a lady clean."

"Does it hurt?"

"Quite honestly, yes." Narcissa nodded. "It's an absolutely miserable time. You get horrific cramps, and your breasts will get sore. On top of that all, you get moody."

"It is bad enough to make you wish you were a boy?" Severus pressed, trying to understand just what he was missing out on- pros and _cons_.

"Of course not." Narcissa huffed. "Being a woman is a privilege."

Severus nodded in reply, wishing he had the exact same privilege Narcissa did. He'd have happily dealt with cruciatus-level pain if it just meant he could have a body he felt comfortable in. A little bit of blood didn't even seem like that big of a deal. And it certainly couldn't hurt _that_ badly-not if Lily had never complained about it to him.

Severus had thanked Narcissa profusely for the new clothing and information, giving her a warm hug before he'd decided to change the subject. After all, Severus had never been one to be overly-emotional or hyper-sensitive. He'd been thoroughly embarrassed about the way he'd sobbed in such an uncollected manner, utterly disgusted with himself for being so weak. Intuitive as Narcissa was, she'd caught on quickly and made the suggested they retire into the gardens for a spot of fresh air.

It was from that day onward that Narcissa began to _insist_ that Severus accompany her on _every_ single shopping trip she took with her girlfriends, as well any salon visit they might make- instead of just the few instances every few months when Lucius was too busy to spend time with him, and pawned Severus off on Narcissa so he wouldn't grow bored. And if anyone ever dared question her motives, Narcissa would simply sneer at them and inform them that Severus came along to protect them and carry their bags- like a good, little gentleman ought to do.

Her acceptance had only grown exponentially each passing day. Come Christmas that year, Narcissa had given him a lovely sleeping shirt. But it hadn't been like the typical _men's_ sleeping shirts social protocol dictated he wear. This one had possessed a slight feminine edge, thanks to a few minor details decorating it, that nobody but Severus would notice unless they were looking for them.

Narcissa gave him another gift of the same caliber for his birthday that same year. She'd given him a large tub of expensive peppermint-scented lotion, imported all the way from Israel. Severus had worn it whenever he had chance, marveling at how baby-soft his hands had become after only one use. And if anyone ever asked him why he wore such a 'girly' scent, Severus would simply tell them that the lotion was medicinal- that the skin on his hands was becoming increasingly sensitive and cracked open whenever he didn't use his lotion.

Best of all, that same birthday, Narcissa had given Severus a full kit of makeup. Inside a large, black, compartmentalized makeup case, she'd carefully placed all the cosmetic necessities a young lady might need; rouges, lipsticks, mascaras, eyeliners, and eyeshadows. Narcissa had been thorough too, supplying only the colors and shades that would complement Severus's skin tone and dark eyes.

And, having hidden themselves safely away in the Room of Requirements, Narcissa had patiently taught Severus the correct way to use every product- going so far as to give him a complete makeover. Severus had actually felt pretty that day, when he'd looked into the mirror. With just the aid of a few select brushes, and copious amounts of dark powder, Narcissa had somehow managed to soften his features to the point that they weren't so blaringly masculine.

Only a month had passed before it became Lucius's turn to discover Lucius's secret. The tall, blond aristocrat had walked into the Room of Requirements to find Narcissa painting his toes a lovely shade of sparkling emerald. Lucius had stopped short at the sight- his mouth falling open in a manner most undignified. At first the older boy had simply stared, obviously trying to register just what he was seeing.

Severus had frozen in a cold panic, frantically scrabbling to formulate some sort of excuse for why Narcissa should be giving him a pedicure. Lucius was the only positive male role model in Severus's life, after all, and Severus had been beyond petrified at the thought of losing him.

But there had been no rejection, no casting away. Lucius had simply nodded once, encouraging Severus to come to him if he ever needed to talk. It was only when Severus had let out his held breath, and gathered up the courage to actually look at Lucius, did he come to realize that Narcissa must have told him about Severus's problem soon after having discovered it herself.

Severus hadn't been angry, nor had he felt any sense of betrayal. Narcissa had done what any concerned parental figure would have- she'd informed her partner. If anything, Narcissa's outing of him to Lucius had been a monumental relief off his shoulders. From that day onward, Severus had one less person he had to hide himself from. And, better yet, one more person who supported him- flaws and all.

By far, his most ardent, uninhibited supporter had come in the form of Regulus Black. With Lucius and Narcissa having graduated at the end of Severus's third year at Hogwarts, the prospect of fourth-year had started to look pretty miserable for him. After all, Severus was going to be losing the only he could discuss his 'problem' with. And so, the closer September came to arriving, the moodier he became.

He'd become withdrawn, more sullen than usual. He'd stopped eating too, only nibbling at his meals to keep Narcissa from nagging him to death about nutrition. The only time Severus had even bothered to leave his guestroom at Lucius's manor was when his presence was absolutely required- not even the massive Malfoy library had managed to keep his attention.

As it turned out, Regulus was the one to pull Severus out from his despondency. Having spent a particularly rough morning locked inside his permanent bedroom at Malfoy Manor, Severus had made the mistake of refusing to join Narcissa, Lucius, and Regulus for a spot of lunch at the Hog's Head Inn. Evidently, that had been the tipping point for Regulus who, up until that day, had been exceedingly patient with Severus's new dismal attitude.

Without warning, Regulus had thrown Severus's door open with a bang loud enough to wake the dead. Stomping over to his bed, Regulus pulled off the blankets Severus was attempting to 'hide' beneath in his childish attempt to show his annoyance at the violation of his privacy.

Ignoring Severus's glare, Regulus set about delivering a long-winded speech about how very concerned he was. The grey-eyed boy had carried on for a good hour, too, in his attempt to figure out the cause of Severus's despondency. Finally, after a particularly well-crafted guilt-trip had been delivered, Severus had caved in and told Regulus the truth about wanting to be a girl.

Massive waves of relief had been lifted of Severus's shoulders as soon as he'd finished making the confession to Regulus. Like a true friend, a younger brother really, Regulus had listened patiently Severus droned on and on about his discomfort and dysphoria. Even when Severus broke down at one point, overwhelmed with a myriad of powerful feelings, Regulus had remained steadfast at his side without showing the slightest trace of judgement or disgust.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?" Regulus had asked, when Severus finally calmed down enough to be rational.

"I worried you'd be disgusted with me." Severus admitted, a childish edge in his voice.

"That's stupid." Regulus had snorted. "You're still Severus, aren't you?"

"But there's something _wrong_ with me." Severus had whispered, feeling the shame coloring his cheeks.

"There isn't anything wrong with being a girl." Regulus dismissed. "As long as you're happy, I don't care _what_ you are."

Severus had felt hot tears poking at the back of his eyes at that particular statement. As of that moment, Regulus had been the _only_ one to articulate what Severus felt accurately; which was that Severus didn't just _want_ to be a girl, he _was_ one already.

"Do you have a different name you want me to call you?" Regulus had asked, trying to change the subject to something light-hearted when he noticed the moisture reappearing in Severus's eyes.

Severus had simply shaken his head. He _loved_ his name, why change it? It was such an uncommon, unique, name that nobody could even really claim it was strictly masculine. Not that Severus would care if they did. He'd just as easily argue back about how poetically it flowed, how the name danced off the lips just as names like Meredith or Victoria did.

Needless to say, after that emotionally charged day, Severus and Regulus had bonded to the point of being siblings. Whenever Severus began to feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable with his body at school, Regulus would pull him into the Room of Requirement for some much needed private time.

It was during those sessions that Severus would dress up in his ladies clothing, makeup and jewelry too, and walk about as if it were completely natural- all without fear of being discovered. Regulus, for his part, would simply act as if Severus had been a girl all along. Alone in the Room, the youngest Black would refer to Severus as 'she' or 'her', careful not to use any adjectives that even hinted at being masculine.

Regulus had done what Narcissa had done, in regards to gift-giving, too. Almost immediately after Severus's confession, he'd purchased Severus a subscription to Witch Weekly so he could look over the newest fashion trends and hairstyles at his leisure- instead of having to rely on snippets of gossip and letters from Narcissa to keep him updated. It didn't just end there, either. From flowery-scented deodorant, to slightly tinted lip balms, Regulus did everything in his power to make Severus as comfortable as possible.

But even with all of Regulus's on-location support, Fifth-year still turned out to be one of the hardest times of Severus's life. It was at fifteen that Severus finally realized that there were many different types of love a person could feel for another; storge, philia, agape, eros…All with their own specific set of definitions.

Severus had _thought_ he'd loved Lily romantically, in the way a boy was _supposed_ to love a girl. But halfway through September, Severus was faced with a very ugly truth. He didn't love Lily in the way he had always imagined he did. No, Severus loved Lily in the same way he loved his mother; selflessly, devotedly, endlessly- but not romantically. As he worshiped his mother, so he elevated Lily up into the exact same level of sainthood.

It had been a hard fact to swallow down. In fact, the realization had made him literally ill with anxiety and shame. What was wrong with him that he couldn't love a girl in the proper manner?

Severus needn't wait long to receive the answer to his question. Come Halloween afternoon that year, Avery had come into the Slytherin common room shirtless- fresh off Quidditch practice with a satisfied smirk on his handsomely chiseled face.

And suddenly it had all clicked into place for Severus, the complete horrible truth of it all. He liked boys and he _always_ had. It had started all those years ago with Jack Spinster, and his adorable nose freckles. Severus's subconscious simply hadn't allowed him to acknowledge such a heavy fact until he was well into his teenage years.

He'd experienced a physical reaction as well, making it impossible to deny such a sudden epiphany. Had Severus not tightly crossed his legs and placed his heavy books over his lap, his self-realization would have made itself known to the entire common room.

It was from that day onward that Severus realized he was unable to escape such strong feelings. Simply put, nothing he did could make him forget Avery for more than a few seconds a day. It was a heavy attraction that had quickly formed into a full-blown obsession, the kind Severus had _thought_ he'd felt for Lily all those years.

While the rest of his schoolmates lusted heavily after the Black brothers, Lucius, or Potter, Severus had joined the large throng of girls that adored Avery. And as much as Severus's feelings made him ashamed, he couldn't stifle them. Avery's cobalt eyes were a source of endless fascination for Severus- his auburn hair the very last thing he dreamed of before waking. And, _oh_ , his milky, smooth skin! It took the greatest of efforts for Severus to keep his cool every time he witnessed a shirtless, sweating Avery.

But, of course, Severus could not act on it. And his feelings of self-loathing and disgust for his body increased to a nearly insufferable level. It was sheer torture for Severus to have to listen to all the gossiping girls in the Slytherin common room as they shamelessly praised _all_ of Avery's attributes. It wasn't long before he began to feel a possessiveness he'd never before felt. Severus had nearly hexed Petula Parkinson when he'd heard her gushing about Avery's firm backside. Why should that toad of a woman get to enjoy Avery, when _he_ couldn't?

It wasn't until Severus was seventeen that he felt even _remotely_ comfortable with himself. At Regulus's insistence, he'd agreed to spend Easter holiday at Black manor. Sirius had run off to live with the Potter's, and as a result, Mr. and Mrs. Black had been going out of their way to make sure Regulus got whatever he wanted. They'd have done _anything_ to keep another son from leaving, especially their favorite one- even if that meant they had to tolerate a half-blood in their home.

Halfway through their break from school, Regulus had suggested polyjuicing as a means to alleviate Severus's discomfort. When the Black family had gone on vacation to Romania that Christmas, Regulus had managed to pluck a few hairs off some brunette girl's blouse. Insisting that no one would be any the wiser, Regulus suggested that Severus masquerade himself as said girl for a trip to Hogsmeade.

The plan had been simple enough. Severus would accompany Regulus for the day as his 'date.' Knowing that he would need a fake persona for the day, Regulus had offered the up moniker of 'Beatrice Flint'. A young bachelorette, and a distant relative of the Flint family, 'Beatrice' who was vacationing in England in order to help her elder sister with a new baby. Even though the Romanian girls body was not his own, the time spent within it was the closet Severus had ever come to feeling comfortable with himself. The dark-haired girls body might have been a little on the short side, sure, but it had felt immensely better than the boy's body he'd been trapped inside. He'd had _breasts_ and, best of all, the disgusting organ betwixt his legs had vanished.

But, like all good things that came to Severus in his wretched life, that day of bliss had come to an end all too soon. Come suppertime, the polyjuice potion had finally run its course and worn off- leaving Severus trapped in his repulsive body once more. A complete breakdown had followed suite, leaving him feeling broken and despondent. To have had the small relief of being in a comfortable body ripped away in the space of seconds had simply been too raw and agonizing an experience to bear.

For five long days, Severus had locked himself in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor. He'd sobbed inconsolably into his pillows, cursing the world that was so endlessly cruel to him. Ignoring the desperate pleas from the Malfoy's and Regulus as they tried to coax him out of his self-imposed exile, Severus had begun to contemplate suicide- desperate to end his suffering by any means possible.

It wasn't long before Severus had vocalized such dark intentions- prompting Lucius to immediately blast down Severus's bedroom door in a panic. For the remainder of that long Holiday break, Severus had been kept on the strictest of suicide watches.

Narcissa had forcibly removed Severus's wand from his person, and had undergone the tedious task of removing all the scalpels, blades, and potentially lethal potions and potions ingredients from his possession. Lucius, for his part, had charmed all the knife drawers in the kitchen shut before assigning Dobby to keep a strict watch on Severus. The only time Severus had been allowed to be alone that week was when he used the bathroom- and even then he'd had to suffer constant knocking every five minutes as the residents of Malfoy Manor tried to ascertain he was still alive. Even at nighttime, Narcissa forcefully kept him confined to his bed- her wards going off to alert the entire house if Severus even dared try to sneak out.

Eventually the Holiday had ended and, all too soon, Severus found himself back at Hogwarts with Regulus. Back at school with the cruel students who called him _Snivellus_ in loud, jeering voices, with the uncaring professors who allowed the taunts and even whispered them under their own breaths when they thought he wouldn't hear. Back in class, with the Marauders who'd almost killed him on more than one occasion- only to receive a slap on the wrist in return. Back in the Slytherin common room, in the _boy's dorms_ , forced to suffer through long nights as all his roommates blathered on about their pretty girlfriends and the things they'd liked to do with them. Back in the same corridors, forced into using the bathrooms that made him so damn uncomfortable.

Back at Hogwarts, the place that was _supposed_ to be his home, Severus suffered just as much abuse as he did when he was back at Spinner's End. And while it might not have been as physical, if Severus disregarded what the Marauder's and their cronies did to him, it was abuse nonetheless and it was far more insidious and crueler.

Of course, by the time he was eight, Severus had learned to brush off all attacks with relative ease. After all, Severus's father had been beating him and cursing his existence long before Severus had even been old enough to _dream_ of attending Hogwarts. The shunning from his peers was easy enough to stomach as well; it wasn't like he was daft enough to assume he was as normal and as well-adjusted as the rest of his classmates.

There was really only one thing he _couldn't_ grow accustomed to. And that was the blow Severus was delivered every single time someone addressed him as _'he.'_ A seemingly innocuous word, it was really a disgusting misrepresentation of his personhood.

 _He…he…he…he!_ Every single day, every last class, each and every hour. There was no escape. No relief at all from the constant reminders that everybody thought of him as the wrong gender.

But life had to go on, regardless of whether Severus wanted it to or not. It was a hard lesson learned at a young age, but it was a lesson very well learned. As always, Severus refused to break- determined not to give his enemies the satisfaction of seeing his downfall and self-destruction.

So Severus had done what he'd been doing since he was old enough to understand the way human emotions and behaviors worked. He occluded. Grabbing hold of his rage, his sorry, his agony, Severus tucked the painful emotions away into the furthest reaches of his minds- beginning to numb himself to the point of apathy.

Brief were his moments of happiness from that day onward. They came in little snippets, disappearing so quickly Severus oftentimes suspected that they joy had not been all that genuine to begin with. Life passed in a haze of nothingness, time ticking away slowly in a gray blur.

Shamed though Severus was to admit such an awful truth, it was only during his seventh year that Severus began to feel alive once more. Spying Potter and Lily kissing at the Halloween Feast had unleashed all the rage and anguish Severus had hidden away, leaving him an emotional wreck towards the end of the night as he was forced to deal with the fact that his stupidity had lost him his best mate.

He'd planned on running off to the Room of Requirement for a solitary cry, desperate for his weakness not to be displayed to an audience. But Avery hadn't allowed Severus to escape. With one strong Quidditch-honed arm, the auburn-haired charmer had kept him firmly in place. At first Severus had reached for his wand, eager to hex the comely young man for his impudence. But when the bulky heir had grinned in his typical endearing manor, Severus had felt his knees go weak.

"Just come to the meeting tonight." Avery had breathed, pulling Severus closer so that no one could overhear. "We all want you there."

Severus had offered up his token excuses; Slughorn had ordered him to tutor the younger students…McGonagall was on the night-watch, making it too dangerous to sneak off castle-grounds… he'd promised the Bloody Baron a game of chess. Severus had stammered on and on, struggling valiantly to keep from blushing as Avery's full lips tickled his ear.

"Severus, _the Dark Lord_ wants you there." Avery had insisted. "He _asked_ us to bring you."

"Why the hell would he?" Severus had demanded, his skepticism fading away as he searched Avery's eyes for signs of deceit and found none.

"Because he's heard what you can do." Avery had grinned. "Severus- he _knows_ who you are."

To this day, Severus still didn't know what had prompted him to finally cave in and attend. Had it been the promise of acceptance? Had it been the flattery Severus had felt knowing that a wizard as powerful as the Dark Lord thought he could be useful?

Better yet, might it have been the way Avery's proximity had thrown him into a disorientated mess, making it hard for Severus to think rationally? Could it have been the copious amounts of firewhiskey Severus had imbibed- the fault of McNair who'd spiked all the punchbowls on the Slytherin tables?

Or had it been a fatal combination of each, overpowering Severus's sensibilities to the point that all rational thought had been lost?

Whatever the inexcusable justification, Severus had finally caved in that night and agreed to attend the small gathering of Deatheaters-in-Waiting. If anything, he had rationalized, it would take his mind off the troubling events of that evening. And hadn't he earned a brief respite at the very least?

And so he had gone, to that little graveyard outside Hogsmeade, desperate for some sort of distraction. All the while never knowing that such an action would herald his downward spiral into moral decline of the most heinous sort.

He'd been nervous that night, of course he had. Severus had heard of the Dark Lord's great temper, after all. What if Severus angered the powerful wizard into killing him? It stood to reason Severus would be highly replaceable in Voldemort's eyes, especially considering that he was only a lowly half-blood and not of the same importance as a solitary heir from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families.

The numerous possibilities for failure plagued Severus's mind the entire time he walked towards the predestined meeting place. Severus had a sharp tongue- what if it disobeyed his commands to keep silent and moved on its own accord? And what if Severus didn't live up the Dark Lord's expectations? Who was Severus compared to such a powerful person? How could he possibly stack up in comparison? Severus might have been brilliant in his own right (first in his year) but of what use was his limited seventeen years of knowledge and experience compared to that of Voldemort's _decades_ of experience and intelligence?

And of brawn, Severus had none to spare. He'd always been a painfully sickly child, succumbing to whatever illnesses plagued Spinner's End or the corridors of Hogwarts. As a result, he had no muscles to speak of. Severus's arms were nothing more than spindly, bony sticks.

Of money, he had none to give. Severus had been born into abject poverty, and it refused to release its grasp on him. It was only through working several summer jobs that Severus had been able to pay for his books each school term.

But, as it turned out, the Dark Lord _had_ heard of Severus. Things that had made the Dark wizard believe that Severus might be of some worth, after all. Almost immediately, the man had drawn Severus forward from the small crowd- wasting no time at all in assessing his newest potential soldier.

With eyes that had still been a dark brown, the powerful wizard had stared directly into Severus's eyes before attempting to push himself into his mind. It had been in shocked terror that Severus repelled the assault, hastily constructing a mental shield from force of habit.

Thankfully such an action had seemed to please the ill-tempered despot, rather than enrage him. The Dark Lord had seemed almost excited upon the discovery that someone so young could successfully occlude him. Instead of death, Severus had been offered a brief word of praise.

Despite coming from the mouth of a psychopath, it had been that small compliment that kept Severus coming back to the meetings. So starved for positive attention and actual recognition from someone in authority, Severus sought to impress the Dark Lord by any means possible.

It started off as an easy enough task. Every time the man would ask a question, Severus would effortlessly answer it before his fellow teenagers even began to form the first syllables on their lips. It wasn't long before his brilliance had earned him favor with the Dark Wizard. More often than not, the Hogwarts alumni began to keep Severus after meetings- entering into lengthy conversation and discussions with the boy about various Dark potions and book. Oftentimes the discussions would last so long, Severus barely had enough time to sneak back into Hogwarts before breakfast began.

It was immediately after Severus shared his notebook of sell-made spells that the Dark Lord officially made Severus a member of his inner circle. With that privilege came many more praises and accolades. The responsibilities demanded of Severus seemed like nothing more than daily chores; making potions for the Dark Lord could hardly be considered work, not when Severus enjoyed brewing so much. So long as his master lavished on the compliments and honors, Severus was happy to shamelessly obey.

For the first time in his life, Severus had felt _important_ , needed, that he _mattered_. As mature as he'd been at that age, Severus hadn't seen that the Dark Lord was just another man using him. Severus had fallen victim to Voldemort's charisma, fallen prey to a man who knew how to manipulate broken people into worshiping him. And, in the blindness of youth and naïveté, Severus remained happy to serve his master for the longest of times.

But the happiness did not last, as usual. Full-blown war had broken out all too quickly, ruining what tentative peacefulness Severus might have reached in regards to his pitiful life. Having been promised that the Dark Lord wanted nothing more than political power, Severus had been painfully taken aback when the orders to murder first came. At seventeen he hadn't been expecting to partake in a genocide, none of them had!

And certainly they hadn't been expecting the tyranny either. The Dark Lord had almost taken on a fatherly role in many of their lives. He might have a strict man, cruel when aggravated, but at least it had seemed like he _cared_. And for those broken, damaged kids, that had been the factor drawing them to Voldemort.

Given all that drama, Severus simply had time to dwell on his dysphoria. And while that might have been a blessing in itself, what replaced it hadn't been. First, Regulus's death had come- a pain made worse due to the fact that none of them really even knew what happened to the fun-loving boy. One minute they'd all been sharing a drink at Aberforth's bar and the next he was gone- deemed a traitor by Voldemort without any further explanation.

Then came handsome Avery's turn to fall. Killed in the midst of a battle he hadn't even wanted to take part in. But it was a far easier death to fall at the hands of aurors then it was to face a Dark Lord infuriated by insubordination. At least the aurors didn't play with their food before killing it.

And then his Lily had fallen, beautiful, perfect Lily. The turning point for his life had come with her death, but Severus would have happily given up his chance for redemption if it meant she never would have died.

The depression settled in thickly then. Despondency far worse than what he'd felt in his youth. He'd been the reason for her death…the knowledge of such was too much to bear. And then there had been all those inquiries from the ministry. All those investigations. All the hate and death threats after a juror found him innocent of all charges.

Time went on in a hellish haze. The war might have ended with Potter's death, and he'd been spared Azkaban and given a relatively comfortable job…but still, his sorrow and rage turned to bitterness. Severus was supposed to have been someone! He'd had the brains and the drive, certainly! He'd been first in his year! All those scholarships and internships thrown at his feet by eager business folk- and he'd thrown it all away for a bit of attention! It was a hard pill to swallow.

He stopped eating, then. Begun smoking heavily. Began overworking himself stocking up the hospital ward with potions. Anything to keep from concentrating on the emotions that threatened to overpower him. He withered away, losing pound after pound at alarming speed. If it hadn't been for little Draco begging him to eat, Severus would have surely withered away and fallen prey to the starvation he was putting his body under.

By the time he'd begun to feel even moderately good enough to start wanting to care for physical and mental health again, his mother had died. His brute of a father had beaten her death and taken his own life afterwards in a cowardly attempt to escape justice. His other might have been old-fashioned, sure, but she'd loved him dearly and without condition.

Severus had only been given two years of feeling moderately okay, still depressed but able to function, as he taught at Hogwarts. He'd finally been able to breathe again, and resume his routine reading of _Witch Weekly_.

Of course, nothing good in his life ever stayed. One year later the Potter brat had come to school, and with his arrival, another bout of depression was triggered. Albus had lost his patience with Severus then- losing his gentle words and caring town to chastise Severus for his childishness. The older man had begun to scold him harshly and harass him endlessly- making demands that Severus pull himself together and put aside his selfish feelings. Telling Severus that he had no right to wallow in his pity, Albus made it clear that this was simply his price to pay for redemption. And how could Severus argue? He had earned his punishment, hadn't he?

And especially now, with Voldemort having risen again, Severus was constantly being reminded by the Gryffindor that certain sacrifices had to be made during times of war. And while it wasn't directly stated outright by said old man, it was abundantly clear that Severus's happiness was one of those things. And, if he were being even more honest with himself, Severus was beginning to suspect that he'd have to lay down his life as well.

It was a powerful realization to digest, and it ate away at his insides ceaselessly. Many nights Severus felt that he'd left the control of one controlling master for that of another. The only difference, it seemed, was that at least one knew where they stood with Voldemort. There were no manipulations, subtle or not, with the Dark Lord. His followers simply obeyed out of fear and/or pride. In regards to Albus, the same could not be said.

The unsolicited thought turned a scowl to Severus's face, and he glared up at the ceiling of his room at Hogwarts from atop his perch on the bed. All his life he'd been nothing more than a puppet to other people's will. First a slave to his father, now a slave to both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore. Through the years Severus had slaved away to serve them, earning nothing in return but violence or fleeting words of praise.

So what was so selfish about him just wanting _one_ thing? Severus was going to die in this war anyways, of course he was. So why shouldn't he have at least a few years of moderate comfortability in a body that suited him? At the very least all the thankless work he'd been doing for the Order had earned him that small mercy.

Thoughts of utilizing the polyjuice potion again flittered through his mind. But Severus quickly pushed them away as foolishness. It would be a short-term fix at best as the potion wouldn't even last a full twenty-four hours. And where the hell would Severus even find a hair suitable for use? If Severus even dared masquerade as a female student or faculty member, he'd quickly be discovered. As soon as he bumped into the individuals whose likeness he'd stolen, all hell would break loose. Everybody would accuse him of all sorts of inappropriateness, and Severus would surely find himself jobless.

No, polyjuicing was out of the question. Even if he _did_ manage to find a suitable likeness to borrow, Albus was constantly watching over him. The Headmaster, unfortunately, had a nasty habit of meddling in affairs not his own and was constantly nagging Severus to take better care of his health. The last thing Severus wanted, or _needed_ , was for Dumbledore to learn of _this_ problem. It was private and all too personal, and Severus wasn't willing to involve anybody but a select few in the process.

It took quite a while for Severus to finally settle upon a solution. But once he had, he decided to move forward immediately. He would go to Narcissa, the only person left in the world whom he felt _entirely_ comfortable with. She would know how to help him, of course she would. All Severus had to do was ask for the help he'd been wanting since he was a little more than a toddler dressing up in his mother's shoes.


End file.
